Cold
by theycallmelokiontumblr
Summary: Hermione Granger didn't expect to become prisoner at Malfoy Manor. But hurt, lust, confusion, love, fear, and passion start to come out to play when Draco sees her and he decides to spare her life- as his slave. Rated M for sexual content, abuse, and language. Dramione. Please rate and review!
1. the enslaved

**A/N: Yeah, it's been awhile. Well, school is over and I've been trying to improve my writing all year so I decided to (at least with this story) go through the chapters again and try to edit some things, change things around, make them better. It's not going to be in your face changes but things I hope will improve it even in the slightest. I'm doing this for all chapters and will hopefully be continuing the story. Thank you for your patience and toleration. **

Night. It was no longer a time of day, a chance to dream and hope, but a word that injected fear into Hermione Granger's blood, turning it colder than the hard, bloodstained stone she slept upon. Dreams used to be her escape, the drug that made her forget about the misfortunes that followed her and the horror around her. She used to cherish those opportunities; but now, when she was lucky enough to find sleep or quiet, it was a sea of nightmares. Some nightmares were more bitter and sad, those about Harry, Ron, Ginny, Luna, Hogwarts, and her parents. But the nightmares that made her wake up in sheen of cold sweat and her bones ache were regarding the Malfoy's.

Malfoy Manor was no manor. It was a never-ending torture chamber. Crucio upon Crucio, cut after cut, hit after hit. Hermione was no longer her name, but lost words. Filthy Mudblood was her new title. She had almost forgotten her name after being tortured for a month at the manor by Bellatrix LeStrange. Or at least, Hermione thought that it had been a month. She had tried her best to count the cycles of day and night through the small crack in the abused wall, but she never knew for sure. It could have just been dark or rainy for a few days and the rain didn't drip down.

She had only seen Bellatrix for her time at the manor. No one else had been allowed into the chamber yet. Her layers of warm clothes that she had been captured in had been turned into mere rags from all the torture. She hadn't been able to clean herself since she got captured, so she smelled utterly putrid. She only got three pieces of bread a day, another form of torture by just keeping her alive, which had turned her into a bloody bag of skin and bone. Cuts covered her body, mostly her stomach and arms, and she was certain some had become infected. Bruises blossomed all over her skin as well, purple, yellow, blue, and black. Hermione worried that because of the deepness of some of the wounds, especially her Mudblood marking, would permanently scar her, and if she ever escaped the whole world would see her for who she was: a worthless, ungrateful, useless, filthy Mudblood.

The chamber she was held in was rectangular, and looked the size of a classroom at Hogwarts. The floor was a sleeked over cement and the high ceiling was held up by ancient, dark beams that were surely weak from all its years of holding. There were chains that hung from the stone walls that had gone soft from all of the bodies that had been thrown or thrust against the wall. Hermione originally was hung from the chains after she was taken prisoner and was suspended there for sixteen hours a day, her shoulders popping out of place and Bellatrix repairing them with her wand just to be hung and torn again. After the week was over, she was restrained with shackles on her feet and on her wrists. Every now and then Bellatrix would hang her on the chains when she was playing with Hermione, but other times she just tossed her around like a ragdoll.

A hot, searing pain ripped through Hermione's entire body. She felt as if the blood rushing through her veins were boiling and then turning stone cold, her bones felt like they had shattered into a billion pieces like shards of glass that fell and pierced all of her organs, her muscles flexed and contracted and cramped, and her head felt like someone had jammed a hot poker in it and started cutting her brain into little pieces and scrambling it around. Even after all her time and experiences with Crucio, she never started to feel immune to the pain. It seemed to surprise her with every blow. It became her alarm clock and the trumpet that sounded for her torturer's entrance. She screamed until she lost her voice, just the evil cackle of Bellatrix ringing in her head. Her throat was so sore that she would throw up blood and she would lose her voice for days, and when she finally regained some of it, Bellatrix would find a way to make her scream even louder than before.

"Morning, Mudblood." Bellatrix held her wand with one hand and had the end pointed into her palm. "Sleep well?" She asked mockingly.

Hermione swallowed and felt a lump grow in her throat. She knew by now that the death eater didn't want an answer, and that if she answered Bellatrix would accuse her of disrespecting her because she hadn't been permitted to speak. Hermione knew not to say anything at all unless Bellatrix got inches away from her face and yelled "SPEAK!" to her.

Hermione missed sleep. She hoped that Bellatrix wouldn't ever suffer from a night of insomnia and decide to come down and torture Hermione until she got tired, or that she wouldn't go out of her way at the late hours of the night or early morning to inflict more pain onto her and prevent her from further rest.

"You know, I think that those shackles are becoming weak. I presume that you've tried every possible way to break out of them whenever you've gotten the chance." Bellatrix glided slowly towards Hermione, who was crouching next to the wall and hugging her body for warmth. "Haven't you? You worthless, impure scum!" The death eater bent down and spit in the young witch's face. She twisted around on her heel and started to walk away. All of a sudden she spun back around and pointed her wand at Hermione menacingly and yelled "Mobilicorpus!"

Hermione was torn from the floor and raised a foot away from the ceiling. Bellatrix got a perverted joy out of seeing Hermione squeeze her eyes shut, building suspense to what she would do next. The witch suddenly felt her body being lowered slowly to the ground. She breathed a sigh of relief and opened her eyes as she hit the ground. "HA!" Bellatrix flung Hermione back up in the air and jerked her this way and that, exploring the entire chamber. Hermione's tears flew from her eyes and her arms swung from left to right, and then beat her in the side when Bellatrix suddenly stopped moving her wand before starting again.

_There were moments where all seemed lost to Hermione, where it seemed like she was about to break and implode__. Where's Harry? Where's Ron? How could they leave me here? Why haven't they come to rescue me?_ Her face twisted and her lip quivered. _Why can't she just kill me?_

Bellatrix finally lowered her to the ground, without any carefulness. She slammed Hermione down and the sound of a bone fracturing made Bellatrix smile madly, exposing her rotten teeth. "Something broken?" She cooed as she circled Hermione like a vulture around its prey. "Well, we'd better fix that." She nodded with a sarcastically concerned look on her face. "You won't be needing these." She explained, taking off the rusty shackles. "INCARCEROUS!"

Ropes erupted from Bellatrix's wand and wrapped around Hermione tightly like vines. The rope started to get tighter and dig its little fibers into her skin. Hermione turned her head away so that Bellatrix couldn't see the pain on her face. She clenched her hands into fists and tried to focus the pain on her nails digging into her palms instead of the ropes digging into her skin. She knew not to fidget or try and break out of them, the burns from the rope would be dreadful, and Bellatrix would surely punish her for trying to escape.

"Now," Bellatrix started to pace slowly back and forth, her heels clicking loudly on the cement. "I could leave you like this and see how you end up tomorrow morning, or I could get you out of those ropes. I think you want to get out of them, don't you, Mudblood?"

Hermione caught the air in her throat and started to panic. She knew that it wouldn't be as simple as releasing her from the ropes. Oh no. Bellatrix didn't have a merciful bone in her body. She would never go easy on Hermione or decide she was bored and just let her go.

Bellatrix stuck her hand down the torso of her black, skin tight fishtail dress, and removed a long, sharp dagger. Hermione couldn't breathe, her train of thought crashed into another and exploded. Her vision got blurry and she felt like a fog had rolled into her head. Bellatrix straddled over Hermione and then came down on her stomach and made the air fly out of her lungs in a rush. She took the dagger's tip and lifted it up to her mouth, licking the tip and her mouth curling into a demented smile.

"I'll have to cut you free." Bellatrix cackled and lowered the knife to the rope, and started to saw at the rope-and the skin beneath.

/

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Another ear shattering shriek escaped from the basement chamber and disturbed the Malfoy's in their dining room during breakfast. Draco had been hearing this for two months and he couldn't stand for it any longer. He never found any peace and quiet anymore. Granger's screams were as common as birds chirping in the garden outside of the manor.

"Can we please fucking _do_ something about Bellatrix?" Draco slammed his goblet on the table angrily, making Narcissa jump in her seat.

"Now now, Draco," Lucius chided his son. "We mustn't complain or speak such words at this hour of the morning, and in front of your mother. I quite enjoy the sound of that filth being punished for trying to defy and fight against the Dark Lord."

"Lucius," Narcissa swept back a stray strand of blonde hair from her pale face and then folded her hands together in her lap. "I'm afraid that I must agree with Draco. It poses such interference in our daily activities, and we can't possibly have guests over with Bellatrix still torturing the vermin." Narcissa's words were delicate and careful, but on the final word her tone became darker.

Lucius glared at his wife with eyes as sharp as a dagger, as if she had insulted him, and hissed "She's _your_ sister, _you_ speak with her."

Ever since Lucius had come home from Azkaban, he seemed to be a completely changed man. He was more violent, cold, and closed off. He didn't care about his appearance, letting ashy grey stubble grow over his face and his hair knot together in a dull heap. Narcissa used to have a loving, intimate relationship with her husband, but now she feared him. She tried her best to avoid him, she jumped away from his touch on the rare occasion he showed affection, and she became terrified to sleep in the same bed as him. She knew that he couldn't go much longer without intimacy, but she knew that she couldn't go through with it and that it wouldn't end well.

There was a long pause before Draco asked "Why has only Bellatrix seen her? Is she keeping secrets from us? Something she doesn't want us to see in our own home? We give her a bed and food and she repays us with secrecy?"

"Draco," Lucius said coolly. "You remember how much you loved playing with your toys as a child."

"Yes, but they weren't able to scream like Granger can." Draco challenged. _They also weren't human beings. _Draco tried to forget the thought had crossed his mind as soon as it left. _She is a half blood. She is Muggle born. She doesn't belong. She is nothing. She deserves this. She's lucky that she gets to breathe the same air as us, much less at all._

Suddenly another distant screech ripped through the manor which made Draco go mad. "I've bloody had it!" Draco threw down his napkin and silverware noisily and marched toward the stone stairway that led to the lower chamber.

The smell was wretched and as it floated through his nostrils it made his face twist and scrunch upwards. His weighty footsteps made a strong echo throughout the twisting passageway before he heard an all too familiar wicked cackle approaching.

"Why hello, Draco." Bellatrix smiled at her nephew with innocent delight. "What brings you here?"

Draco tried his best to hide the disgust on his face and not spit at her _Keep your fucking tits in your dress before you knock someone else or make me retch_. He didn't want to see his aunt that exposed. "I've come to silence your prisoner that you've been hogging."

"Why? I thought you delight in the sound of pain? Especially coming from her." Bellatrix already knew about Hermione Granger from Draco's complaints and rants about school, but knowing that she was a part of the Golden Trio was the best part.

"Yes, Aunt Bellatrix, but to an extent which has been surpassed." Draco smiled curtly. "How long do you plan to keep her locked away? You look rather suspicious and you surely can find other sources of entertainment that are less…obnoxious."

Bellatrix inhaled through her nose noisily. "Do what you with the rubbish."

Draco nodded and pushed through the large wooden doors and entered the chamber. For a basement it looked very nice, if you didn't mention the blood stains. There were no bugs or rats, even though he had found them around the manor before. His eyes took minutes to adjust to the darkness with only a few candles scattered around the chamber, and then he saw her.

The girl he had known since he was eleven. The know it all and favorite of every teacher and was prided as the smartest witch of her age. The girl who held out a kind and inviting hand to those in need, who supported house elves' rights. The one who had punched him square in the face third year.

Even remembering that couldn't purge Draco from feeling sympathy when he saw her curled up in a ball with a pool of blood around her, dirt and rags covering her body, and the outward appearance of a corpse. He could see her shivering and shaking, moaning and crying. Even her usually frizzy bronze curls looked dead. He knew that even she didn't deserve this treatment.

_What the fuck?_ He thought. _She deserves every fucking bit of this torture for what she's done._Draco remembered what he came down here to do.

He approached her silently, like a lion stalking his prey, and whipped out his wand. "Crucio!" The jet of magic flew out of his wand and worked its way through the witch, making her writhe with pain and agony.

She started to scream and Draco leaned down, his spidery fingers wrapping around her throat and flinging her against the wall in what seemed like one swift movement. She could feel him pushing into her windpipe, cutting off her air supply.

"For two fucking month's I've had to deal with your screams!" Draco yelled through his gritted teeth. "And now you will be silent."

Hermione looked at his stone grey eyes with fear and know she would be tortured more brutally if she didn't submit. She couldn't accept that was the boy with the pointy face and smug smile she met on the train. She hated herself for ever believing for one second that there was good in him. His breath was hot against her face, and his nose was almost touching hers.

Draco's breathing slowed down and his grip loosened. He never got a good look at Hermione before. _Her eyes are like liquid gold, there's still such life in them._ He observed. They're beautiful. He looked at her lips, they had become drained of color, but they were still plump. _That's killing me_. He thought. _It's one of those lips you need to bite at. It's been so long since I've touched a girl…_ Draco started to get lost in her.

_What is he doing? _Hermione's thoughts were rushing back and forth like a snitch in her head_. Did he say two months? Oh Merlin where are Harry and Ron? _Hermione noticed the changed expression on Draco's face. It had gotten softer, like he was studying something and trying to understand it. _Why is__Malfoy__looking at me like that?_

Draco's eyes started to lose focus and dart between Hermione's eyes and her lips. Hermione knew what he was doing as he slowly moved forward, but she couldn't wrap her head around it. She couldn't understand it, they despised each other. But neither did Draco. He just knew that he wanted her. He wanted to taste her, to touch her skin and run his fingers through her hair and memorize every single inch of her body and make it his.

He trapped her against the wall with his arms and held the back of her neck, taking one arm off the wall and wrapping it around her small body, her knees almost giving out from under her as heat bloomed low in her stomach and trickled down to her core. He breathed into her neck causing a shiver to run down her spine as he pressed his hips into hers. He caught her lower lip between his, and lost himself in her. The kisses were frantic at first, Hermione not even knowing what to do. She had never been kissed before, but she went with her instincts and tried her best to kiss him back. She forgot who she was, where she was, and who he was when she started to wrap her sore legs around his waist and pull him even closer. Adrenaline rushed through her body and the pain faded, replaced with pleasure.

Draco led himself down to her neck and started to kiss and bite every possible place he could. He didn't care about the dirt and blood, he just needed her. There was no better way to describe it. Her skin was intoxicating, and feeling her legs around his waist and her hands gripping his hair and raking up his back was like a drug. He couldn't believe she wasn't retaliating.

Hermione started to wonder if what was happening was real or if she was dreaming. She could have gone crazy in all the time she had been tortured and started to hallucinate. But when she felt his tongue slide against the curve of her neck and a fiery sensation flew through her, she knew that it was real. She smiled for the first time since she had been captured. It felt so good to be held, to be wanted. To hold him.

Draco led a trail of kisses back up to her lips and bit down on her lower lip. Hermione felt herself going weak against him, but he held her even tighter. Their kisses got deeper and more intense, as well as Draco.

He heard her stop breathing and waited. It wasn't long before she gasped for air, the intake turning to a scream of pleasured shock as he bit a little harder at her neck. He slithered his hand down to what remained of her jeans and started to open them. He lowered his kisses again and switched to the other side of her neck as his hand searched for what he wanted, sliding between her thighs to press over her sensitive heat. He knew just by feeling how wet she was that this was close to being over already. He wouldn't have to do much to make her fall apart in his arms.

Hermione felt like she was going to shatter in his arms if he went any slower. All the other things that Bellatrix had done to her for the past two months were games compared to what Draco was doing. He circled around her core with two fingers for a minute, but it seemed like an hour to her. _That_ was torture.

"Please," she begged into his ear. He finally gave in and Hermione felt herself melt in his arms. She had never felt like this before, and couldn't believe that in a time like this she could, or that he ever would dare to. "Draco…" She moaned in a barely audible murmur.

_Draco. Draco Malfoy. That's me._ He thought. _Hermione Granger. I'm touching Hermione fucking Granger. The filthy Mudblood._He felt his stomach twist and imagined his father if he had seen them together. He remembered how nauseating and revolting she was and why she was here.

Draco withdrew his hand from her and shoved her off of him. Hermione looked at him like he had stolen something from her. She didn't understand what he was doing or why. _Did I do something wrong? Is there something wrong with me?_ She asked herself as she waited for Draco to explain himself.

Draco wiped off his mouth and looked at her with his infamous glare. "Don't you ever fucking touch me again you disgusting _Mudblood!"_

The wizard stomped away and slammed the door with a force he didn't know he had, leaving Hermione with her hand over her mouth, crying and gasping, trying to understand what had just happened and why.

_He used me. I knew it was too good to be true._ She cried to herself, curling into a ball and rocking back and forth until she cried herself to sleep. _How could anyone ever love me?_

/

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Draco Malfoy never did sleep well, and ever since the Dark Lord had returned, he didn't even attempt at sleep. He knew that it would only be for a few hours, and it would be filled with nightmares that explored every fear and terrible past experience mixed into one. He couldn't remember the last time he had a real dream. Dark circles grew around his eyes, giving the impression of the dead.

Ever since he had seen Hermione, or what was left of her, in the torture chamber a week ago, he couldn't stop thinking about her. He tried not to, but the thoughts plagued his mind no matter what he was doing. Draco got so frustrated that he squeezed his head tightly, trying to make the thoughts vanish, and even beating against his head hoping to do the same. When no one was around, he would roar until his vocal chords couldn't take it.

_Rain had been pouring all day, tapping against Draco's enormous glass windows.__ Damn it. __Draco_ thought. The sound was so comforting and as it got softer he swore that the universe was trying to coax him to sleep. He sat at his oak desk across the room trying to read some rubbish book that he absolutely hated; but he couldn't focus on it and slammed it down. He puckered his lips and put his forefinger and middle finger against his lips and leaned backwards in his chair. He looked behind him at his bed, then his bookshelf. Bed, bookshelf. _For Salazar's sake it can't be that bad._ Draco considered.

He ripped off his usual black suit and put on his black pajama pants and approached his bed slowly. To a house elf, it would seem like six-year-old Draco was in an older body and was going to check under his bed for monsters. Nevertheless his bed sat there, with its high black headboard and pure white sheets that almost matched his skin_. Pull yourself together you twat._ Draco scolded himself_. It's just a bed._

The boy lay there for what seemed like hours before his eyes finally closed and he drifted to sleep; wrapped up in a cocoon of blankets and sheets. He tossed and turned like the sea, and a storm was brewing in his sleeping mind. He learned soon that he was right; nightmares were starting to form and play out in his mind. However, tonight he was going to have the worst one imaginable.

He was back in the basement, and he could make out Bellatrix up against Hermione, who was hanging from the chains on the wall, carving up her body like a tree trunk in the forest. His breathing stopped. It was one thing to see the scars on her body, but it was a whole other world to see how they had gotten there.

"Bella!" Draco strode over to her, stomping his feet. She paid no attention to him, like she was deaf. "BELLATRIX!" He screamed in her ear. She stayed exactly where she was, and it made Draco fly into a rage. He gripped the death eater's shoulders and tried to throw her across the room with all of his strength, but he went right through her. He was a ghost to her; she couldn't hear, feel, or see him.

That was nothing. The worst was still yet to come. Hermione could see and hear him, and she looked at him with lifeless eyes and moaned "Draco…" Bellatrix stabbed a knife through her stomach and Hermione's emergent scream got caught in her throat. Draco felt tears starting to overflow and spill over in his eyes and his lungs refused to take in any air. She turned her head slowly to look at him again, and asked "Draco? Why would you let her do this to me?"

Draco tried to gulp in air, but nothing worked. He suddenly fell to the ground, his body shutting down from lack of air. He felt another pressure on his throat; like a snake was wrapping itself around it and suffocating him. Draco wasn't entirely wrong. He was thrown up against the wall on the opposite side of the room by Lucius.

The smile on his face was all too familiar. It was the same fake smile that Draco took years to forget and the same corner of the chamber that he had forgotten-almost. He felt like fainting, this nightmare was too real. It hit him right in the heart and he didn't know if he would be the same when he woke up. He didn't know if and how long it would take to stop thinking about all of this again.

"Draco," Lucius still had the evil smile on his face. "Do you know what happens to children who disobey their parents?"

"FATHER PLEASE!" Draco begged, but it was no use.

Lucius had taken off his gloves and started to punch Draco's face repeatedly with all the strength he could muster, breaking his nose and cutting open his lips. Then he started to really beat on him. His stomach became Lucius's punching bag, his stress reliever again.

When Draco was younger, six or seven, he was just severely spanked and smacked. When he turned eight, he started receiving the punches and even the Cruciatus curse. Lucius was lucky enough that he had a wand to cover up his tracks. Narcissa never knew a thing, and Draco was informed that if he went and notified his mother of what his father had been doing, those words would be his last.

It had taken Draco years upon years to forget about it, and after he was sent to Hogwarts his father stopped using the basement as his torture chamber. Draco, up until this point in time, had been thoroughly convinced that he had completely forgotten about what had happened, but he knew that someday it would come back and stab him through the heart.

Draco shot up in his bed like he had been resurrected. There was a thick layer of cold sweat across his entire body, and his bed had been torn apart. His chest heaved, trying to stabilize him, and his heart beat was trying to break through his chest. When he looked down, he could've sworn that his body pulsated at the same time his heart did.

"Make it stop…" He started pounding the sides of his head with the heel of his hands. "MAKE IT STOP!" He roared. He hoped someone would hear his cries and come to comfort him; he wished that he would get these thoughts and nightmares out of his head. He wished none of this had ever happened.

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Malfoy had only managed to fall asleep for another hour before the morning sun slapped him in the face. "Fuck!" He yelled, putting his pale hand over his face to shade him. He jumped out of bed and ran into a shady corner of his room; if the sun came into contact with him he felt that he would begin burning up like a vampire. He inched over to where the pulley for his black curtains hung and pulled it down with a grunt. His ceiling was pretty lofty, and his windows stretched almost to the top of it, which made the curtains exceptionally heavy. All sunbeams were blocked out and Draco breathed a sigh of relief.

With that, he also breathed in his stench. "I smell fucking rancid." He admitted. He ran his fingers through his unruly messy hair and felt disgusted by that as well.

He shuffled over to the bathroom and slid into his bathtub to cleanse away the sleep and sweat from his body. The water was scalding, just how he liked it. He smiled and moaned "Ah" as the water started to caress his skin and warm him.

Like an intruder to his mind, Hermione slipped into his thoughts and scrambled around with his imagination. This posed no inconvenience to him or his sleep cycle, so he had no problem with it.

He imagined about how she would look exposed in a shower, the water droplets kissing her sweet skin and then turning into streams that flowed over her form. He imagined how she would purr with satisfaction as she lathered up every inch of her body, her hands running up and down her neck, chest, and legs.

Draco felt a twitch above his thighs, and it was growing painful for not being attended to. He couldn't resist the urge. He needed this. He deserved this. It was aching to be touched. His mind was making amends to him for the pain it had caused during the night. Sometimes his mind was on his side.

Suddenly she was in the tub with him, a day-dream mind you. She made the water splash around them as she crawled over to with a seductive grin on her face, like she had planned something wicked. He imagined that she kissed the beginning of his abdomen and then licked upwards his chest and up to the neck. She slid her tongue quickly across the most sensitive patch of skin on his neck and then kissed every place that she could, and finally sucking on the hollow of his neck, practically taking the pain from his dream last night with her, which drove him mad. He hugged her body close, feeling her breasts pressed up against him. He imagined that it was her gentle hand that was massaging his muscle, twisting upwards and downwards. He moaned out her name and then realized what he had been doing.

He snapped open his eyes and ran his hands through his hair. What was he doing? He hadn't wanked off in months, and he was doing it to Granger. The freaky bint that had been one of his greatest enemies since he stepped foot in Hogwarts. He always thought about how she didn't deserve the magic and knowledge she was given, but here he was, using her to get off.

He dipped his head underwater and screamed at the top of his lungs. _What the fuck is she doing to me?_

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The more Hermione Granger moved the more her muscles throbbed. Her broken arm rubbed against her raw skin and she bit down a squeal until she found blood. Bellatrix had been enforcing the rule of silence after Draco's little outburst for a week. Whenever Hermione made the smallest peep, Bellatrix took incredible joy in using her new play toy: a long black whip.

She lashed her for every second that she had made a noise. There were lashes on her stomach, but there were at least thirty on her back. Bellatrix seemed to have the most fun when she used the whip. Her laugh was thunderous and the whip was like lightning striking. It seemed to be almost as painful as getting hit with Crucio.

"Tell me," Bellatrix said, letting Hermione drop to the floor from the chains, landing on the arm that was broken. It took every bit of self control Hermione had in her body not to scream until her voice wasn't able to make a sound anymore. "Do you take pleasure in having blood that is filthier and more unworthy than shit run through your veins?" Hermione shook her head no, and Bellatrix spread the witch's arms out so that her body was in the shape of a T. Bellatrix slammed on top of the smaller girl and let her unhealthily long and mucky fingernails scrape from her arm sockets all the way down to her wrists. She almost broke her silence when they scraped against her raw skin where the bone had broken. Tears poured over her cheeks."You should thank me," Bellatrix said, removing the wretched blade from her dress. "Because I am going to rid you of it."

She took the blade and started to slice open her wrists. Hermione prayed that Draco would come down and rescue her again. She bargained with the universe that if he saved her life, she would do anything to repay him. It had been a week without anything. Her hope was fading as fast as a fire in a downpour.

/

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Draco started to rummage through the kitchen, where he could find no house elves to assist him in getting any food. He needed an excuse to see her again, and he wanted to try and keep her alive. She had only been surviving on bread, and she was lacking too much nutrients that she needed to function.

"Master?" A meek voice called from behind him. Draco turned around to find Adda, a house elf, behind him holding a handkerchief. He had a short but pointy nose that resembled a cone that stuck straight out from his tiny face, and ears that were long and floppy like a bunny's. His eyes were brown and full of sorrow, and his entire body was shaking.

"You pathetic little vermin! You and your family have been slacking on your duties and there was no one here to assist me in getting my morning meal!" He spat at the elf with a disgusted look on his face. He held out his wand threateningly. "I should kill you for this." He warned. He would never kill anyone, not even a house elf, but it still scared the life out of them.

"Apologies, master Malfoy!" The elf started to cry as it bowed down and collapsed to its knees. "Adda and his family were allowed to have a ceremony for Dink!" He cried onto the floor. "Adda come back first to serve! Adda get food!" He nodded, slowly getting up off his knees and scuttled over to a pantry.

"Wait." Draco blocked the door to the pantry. "What happened to Dink?" Even though Draco tried to prove that the house elves were nothing to him, he still knew a majority of their names and could match some their faces.

"Oh!" Adda wept into his little hands. "Dink is dead!"

Draco's heart sank a little. What Hermione got in a day seemed more than what the house elves got in a week. "Fetch me some eggs." He said coldly.

"Where shall Adda bring them to, master?" Adda sniffed and wiped his nose on his arm. He found some eggs and started cracking them onto a pan as Draco headed for the doorway.

"I'm staying right here." Draco folded his arms.

"Master Malfoy shall take his meal with Adda in the kitchen?" Adda turned around slowly, his bare feet making soft taps as he turned and looked at Draco, befuddled. Draco had only been in the kitchen a handful of times in his entire life, and he doubted that his father even knew where the kitchen was, much less his mother.

"I wouldn't dare stoop so low as to eat with such a pathetic creature as yourself." Draco sneered. "I'm bringing it to the basement." He explained.

Draco was pretty sure no house elves had ever stepped foot in the chamber, but they knew of it. If they did anything wrong, Lucius would usually pick them up by the ears or hex them. They had probably heard of Harry Potter and his friends getting caught and being taken to the manner, but they may or may not have known that Bellatrix had taken Hermione as prisoner. They may have guessed someone, it wasn't normal to hear ear-splitting screams every day, but they didn't know who or why.

"Yes, master." Adda nodded and finished up the eggs, trying to balance the large glass plate of eggs on his tiny hands. Adda resembled a small toddler carrying a rubbish bin lid as he padded over to Draco, and held the plate expectantly in front of the giant boy. He looked up at Draco with wide eyes, seeking approval for his work.

Draco kneeled down and was about to take the plate when he heard the approaching sound of heels tapping along the hallway. The steps were too fast to be his mother, and she wouldn't have any reason to walk quickly. It must've been Bellatrix. She was the family member he hated the most.

Maybe it was because he hated knowing that they were almost exactly alike, sick and twisted. Maybe it was because Bellatrix never stopped telling him how he was her favourite nephew for that reason. Maybe it was that the house elves had better hygiene habits than she did even after they were made available to her. Maybe it was because he wanted to shave off the black and grey hinted rats nest she called her hair. Some of it was because of how she draped herself over the Dark Lord and worshiped the very ground he walked on, and how she thought she was the best, even though he was his protégé.

"Draco?" Bellatrix stood on her tip toes and leaned to the right, making sure it was him. "What in Merlin's name are you doing down there?" She asked disgustedly, shooting an intimidating look at Adda, who scurried over to the counter with the eggs and started to clean off the stove. "I never thanked you for giving me the idea to make the little Mudblood silent no matter what I do to her. It's very entertaining."

"It's been two months; I can't imagine you can still take pride in tormenting the bint." Draco stood up and stuck a hand in his pocket. "Why can't we put her to good use and make her do our bidding? I was informed just minutes ago that one of the house elves has died, and someone has to pick up the slack. Make her work to deserve the luxury of being alive."

Bellatrix smiled wildly like a Cheshire cat. "What a brilliant idea, Draco!" She approved. "I'd still get to have fun with her, if she does something wrong I'll send her back down there for a week!"

"You're going to kill her at that pace." Draco folded his arms disapprovingly, balling his hands into fists.

"Why can't we just kill her? She'd probably make the manor even dirtier with her Mudblood hands. Nothing can cleanse her of that shitty blood."

"Because_I_ said so." Draco narrowed his eyes and bared his teeth as he spoke.

"Where do you get off speaking to me in such a way?" Bellatrix sneered and stuck out her lower lip. She raised her hand to slap him across the face when Draco caught it in his hand like a cuff. She tried her hardest to budge and wiggle her hand out of his grip, but it was no use. He liked seeing the bitch struggle.

"I'm more powerful in this house than you'll _ever_ be. _I_ am a Malfoy. You _wish_ that you could have that name as your own and feel the supremacy behind your voice when you speak it, the prestige, the authority, the sheer superiority. This house will be mine one day, and it will be handed down from my children to their children, and every generation after that. Not a drop of Malfoy blood will ever run through your veins. _You_ will never have _any_ ownership of this house," Bellatrix struggled again, making Draco squeeze even tighter. "Therefore what I say goes, since it is in my family name and _I_ am the one who makes the decisions around here, _not you, and not ever_." He exhaled through his nose and got an inch away from her face. "Do you understand me?" Draco took her silence as a yes, and released her from his grip.

Draco smoothed down his suit and then turned around and looked at Abba as if what had just happened never took place. "Eggs. Now." He commanded.

Abba was still cleaning with his back turned to Draco, and tried his best to hide his smile behind his hands. He was snickering throughout the entire confrontation. He picked up the plate and padded over to Draco, who took the plate and said something that Abba thought he would never hear in his entire life at the manor: "Thank you."

/

/

/

Hermione often found herself staring up at the little crack on the wall where the sunlight came in, making her thoughts branch out. She wondered if it was sunnier in Australia where her parents were, if they were living happily with the same jobs or a different one. She wondered if they had tried to start a family to replace a void that surely was in their hearts. The worst thought came into her mind like it always did: Were they even alive?

She had no idea what had been going on in the outside world, if Harry had been doing any good or saving anyone, or if the Dark Lord had completely taken over and killed every Muggle in his path. For all she knew, the grass could have turned purple in her time as prisoner.

She tried to go through her memories and find the happy ones, but after they ended, she only got more depressed. Nostalgia followed her in every thought. She even tried to maintain her knowledge by rummaging through her memory to remember lessons and pages of the books she had read. But nothing could take her mind off of Draco.

She was intoxicated by him. She still remembered how smooth his skin felt, how he smelled like green apples, and how his lips tasted so bittersweet. She had never experienced anything that made her feel so euphoric, and had stayed that way for a week. She couldn't get him off of her mind, and she needed more. She finally started to look forward to her chances to sleep so she could relive the night that he visited her.

But why had he stopped? Had she done or said something wrong? Yes, she did. She lived. She had Muggle blood running through her veins. She was a freak of nature. She was nothing. Hermione had no self esteem anymore. She hated herself.

The door creaked open and her head shot up. She hadn't expected Bellatrix back so quickly. She usually waited an hour or two before she started tormenting Hermione again. Hermione quickly lay down on the floor and pretended to be passed out so Bellatrix wouldn't make her hit the floor. But it wasn't her. It was Draco, ambling as quietly as he could over to her.

He put the plate on the floor as gently as he could, but it still made an awful ruckus. She didn't dare open her eyes or move. He extended his hand to her bare shoulder and shook it slowly. She was stone cold. How was she still alive and breathing?

"Granger!" He hissed.

She opened up her eyes obediently and stared into his clear grey eyes. Draco looked back at her, and noticed that her eyes had turned glassy and cold. Her lips were growing thinner and thinner, and the voluminous bronze curls that used to frame her face were hanging like the leaves from a willow tree, pathetic little waves of dull brown hair. If she had been put in a room full of children it would've seemed that they had been tugging on her hair for hours without letting go, until there was only a hint of a curl left behind.

She wrapped her arms around her legs and hugged her body, trying to shield herself from whatever she thought he planned on torturing her with. He pushed the plate of eggs toward her and she looked at it as if she'd never seen it before. She looked at him, waiting to be told what to do. "Eat." He pointed towards the plate. She picked up the fork and devoured all of it in less than a minute. She hadn't tasted real food since she left home.

"What has she done to you?" Draco asked, sitting down with one leg perched upwards as an arm rest.

Hermione held out her arms and showed him what she had experienced. He had never gotten a good look at her scars, and even so it wasn't this close. She took of small bits of her clothes and show the other cuts, burns, lashes, and bruises. Draco gulped down the bile that had gathered up in his mouth at the site of the poor girl, and he bit back tears that were starting to form in the corners of his eyes. He reached out slowly, making sure that she trusted him enough to touch her. She did nothing, and Draco took that as an invitation. He reached further and touched her body. It was cold and dry, some scabs had formed and started to peel away, and others had been torn back open. _How could someone damage such a beautiful body?_

When he touched her right arm, she winced and pulled away. He turned it over and saw that it was broken, and had been rubbing up against her skin, irritating it and making it raw. He was surprised it hadn't broken through. Draco took out his wand and pressed it up against her arm. "I know it hurts," He tried to comfort her as she whimpered.

He reminded her of her parents. Whenever she scraped her knee or fell down as a child, her parents would kiss it and then console her as they poured disinfectant on the wound and rub her back. She was experiencing mental pain and physical pain at the same time. _Fantastic_. She thought.

Draco muttered a quick healing spell and a jolt of blue and red light went under her skin and made a flash. It started out incredibly hot and then it stopped abruptly. It was completely repaired. She didn't feel pain on her arm for once. _Thank Merlin!_ She sighed.

"Better?" He asked. She nodded, relieved, and it looked as if a smile was trying to form on her face.

He took her arm again and helped her stand up. He led her up the staircase and snuck her up to the second floor of the manor. There were a couple of times where he heard the floorboards creak or footsteps draw near and he had to duck into a random room before walking again.

She had never seen the inside of the manor before. It was dark and dreary, even though it was early morning with sun shining through every window. There was a window at the end of each hallway so that you could overlook the front yard, with perfectly trimmed grass and two large hedges where albino peacocks could be seen strutting on like a runway that separated in the middle for the gravel pathway up to the door, as well as the back yard, with a moderately sized garden with every flower and plant imaginable, an enormously complex maze made out of more hedges.

He pushed open the door to his room and escorted her into his bathroom. It was long and thin with a circular bathtub enveloping most of the bathroom and only had room left for a sink and toilet. He took out his wand and pointed it at the tub, filling it with hot water.

She stood there like a soldier, not knowing what to do. He lifted both of her arms slowly and started to take of her clothes gingerly, trying not to irritate any of her cuts or lashes. He held out his hand and guided her into the water. She dipped her foot in and quickly withdrew it, realizing how hot it was.

"It's okay." Draco ensured. "Go in slowly." Hermione did as she was told and gradually sat herself down in the tub and buried herself in the warmth. She closed her eyes and thanked Godric for letting her feel warmth again. She heard water splashing and opened her eyes to see Draco coming towards her with soap. She could make out his carved out chest and abdomen, pale as a moon beam and without one blemish. She dared not look any lower.

There was already dirt and blood making a ring around her. Draco turned her around and started to delicately rub her back and arms with the soap, and dipped the back of her head in the water so that he could wash her hair without getting any water in her eyes. He washed the shampoo through her hair and rinsed it out, brushing through it with his fingers.

As he started washing her shoulders and back with the soap, he realized what he was doing and with who, and how hours earlier he had imagined being in the same exact place with her, even though he was doing something totally different. But, it was an excuse to touch her.

There was a splash caused by Hermione jumping a little, and Draco snapped out of his thoughts and saw that he had gotten carried away and rubbed over her breasts with the soap. He didn't know if it was the fact that no one had ever touched them before or that Bellatrix had found a way to hurt here there too, but she was sensitive to his touch, even if it was behind a bar of soap.

"I'm sorry," Draco apologized, setting the soap on the side of the tub and rubbing her shoulders. "I didn't mean to do that. I'm not going to hurt you," he scooted forward so he was embracing her. She jumped a little again, not being used to that kind of contact. "_No one_ is going to hurt you." He promised.

She relaxed once he said those words, and then she abruptly turned around and flung herself onto him, sobbing into his shoulder. His arms were still outstretched, not knowing what to do for a few moments. When he realized she was going to stay there, he held her tightly and brushed his hand up and down her wet hair. He tilted his head downwards and kissed her shoulder lightly, trying to not make her jump again. Her sobs became quieter after this, a little tamer. He did it again and by the time his kisses met her cheek she was silent.

She looked into his stone grey eyes and saw that they had grown softer and his pupils had dilated to the point where they almost enveloped the grey. He noticed that hers had done the same, and were now starting to gain a bit of life back with a dash of curiosity. She blinked, waiting for him to do something, and was only disappointed yet again as he got out of the water and wrapped a towel around himself.

"Dry yourself off," He said without looking at her. "I'll have one of the house elves send up your uniform."

"Uniform?" Hermione asked, grasping the side of the tub.

"You're my slave now."


	2. the lost

**A/N: Once again, this is a re-edit. It's the second chapter, but it's really the third and fourth combined. I changed a lot more in this chapter, especially since after so long I've changed my ideas on how I want this story to develop, even down to when I use Draco or Malfoy as descriptors. School is over for me on Tuesday, so I will hopefully be updating a lot more. **

**Are there going to be spelling and grammar mistakes? Probably. Are things going to be confusing because I may have missed something? Probably. Should you review? Yes. Should you give me constructive criticism? Yes. Should you bite my head off? No. Just had to get that point across again. **

_What the fuck?_ Draco Malfoy charged out of the bathroom and over to his row of windows that overlooked the gardens and the maze. He ran a hand through his hair and started to study the maze. _What in Merlin's name is wrong with me? She's Hermione Granger! The pathetic little Gryffin-dope with hair that looks like she'd been fried in an electric chair and sputtered that Muggle nonsense like a robot with a glitch. The professors probably hate her too. I mean, they have to deal with her outbursts and thousand page reports._ He snorted. _She can't even punch people in the face correctly._ He grazed the side of his nose, remembering the day she had punched him during their third year, narrowly missing his cheek. He had never been punched publicly before, and it was the most embarrassing thing he had ever experienced.

Payback would be fun.

/

/

/

The small girl clung to the side of the porcelain tub, still not entirely processing what Malfoy had just said. She heard the words come from his lips, she saw his jaw move from where she was, and she couldn't think of anything that would sound like she'd been mistaken and heard something that rhymed.

_Slave. _

_Slave._ She repeated. _Is this supposed to be another form of torture? Being forced to comply with every request and order of Malfoy? Surely he'll think of every possible demand that will make me look like a fool_. She sighed and rested her chin on the side of the tub. _At least he won't drive me to the brink of death and then heal me just to get broken again. He can't be as awful as his aunt._

There was a little tapping on the door, followed by Malfoy's muffled voice in the distance barking "Just fucking walk in!" Hermione saw a little house elf scamper in and shut the door behind her, the tiny chest heaving as one of her hands covered it and tried to calm it down, and a scared look in her eyes. Something about her appearance told Hermione it was a girl. Maybe it was the softer features, the smaller more fragile body, or the look in her eyes. Her ears stuck up a little like a cat's, and her nose was very long and drooped at the end. Her eyes were a deep brown, and they looked fairly round and as big as a toy ball.

Hermione sunk a little deeper into the water, making sure the house elf didn't see too much of her body. The house elf seemed to forget that Hermione was even in the room, and padded her little feet over to a chair next to the tub that had the towels sitting on it. She put down a square of black fabric, presumably Hermione's uniform, and quickly disapperated out of the room with a snap.

The witch weakly raised herself out of the tub and wrapped a white towel around her body and her hair. It was the softest thing she'd had against her skin in a while, and she didn't want to take it off. She leaned down to pick up the uniform and inspect it. She held it up and watched it slowly unfold in front of her.

_You've got to be joking!_ Hermione scoffed at the uniform and held it up to her body.

She ran over to the mirror and looked at it again. It was jet black and went down just past the end of her thighs. There was a corset that started at her chest and connected to the softer fabric at her hips, with only two pathetic little scraps to hold it up. It was a beautifully simple black corset, she had to admit, observing it. It was plastic boned for lightness opposed to the usual steel. The outer fabric was sleek satin polyester that looked as good as it felt, and the lacing was ribbon rather than cord.

_He's going to make me look ridiculous! That loathsome little snake!_ She thought as she slid the dress over her head and fastened the corset's buckles in the front. Hermione realized that it had been enchanted when the corset unexpectedly constricted like a python around her until it was beyond skin tight. It released its grip once Hermione felt like she couldn't breathe and adjusted to her form, and only tightened a little so that you could see curves like an hourglass. The corset had managed to prop up her breasts so that the skin down to an inch or two above her nipple was pushed upwards and everything below was held in place by the cups that were connected.

_At least he gave me clothes_. Hermione crossed her arms and looked down on the floor to find that her clothes had seemingly vanished. She looked over to the chair where the dress had been laid and found nothing else there. _That insufferable twat!_ Hermione stomped her foot in a rage. _I knew this was too good to be true! Everything! To think I had started to appreciate him. I must have gone crazy in the torture chamber to think that Draco was different._

/

/

/

Draco had grown impatient waiting for Hermione to come out of the bathroom. He was prepared to humiliate her with every insult he could possibly imagine, knowing that the house elf had picked out something from the box of rubbish clothes that Bellatrix had thrown away. Her wardrobe wasn't exactly the most fashionable arrangement of clothing out there.

"Are you fucking finished getting dressed or are you so dim that you can't figure out how to change into a bloody dress?" He hollered from his bedroom.

His voice startled Hermione and made her heart stop beating for a split second. She felt her pulse at the tips of her fingers and in her ears. It was powerful, like a battering ram trying to break through her ribs and her chest. However the corset would've been able to stop that.

She quietly emerged from the bathroom and had a hard time separating herself from the door. It reminded Hermione of when she was little saw something scary, or met someone new, and would hide behind her mother and poke her head out from behind her mother and cling onto her leg.

"There's a piece missing..." She squeaked.

"There is nothing missing from your uniform; which I have yet to see." He added impatiently. "Unless the house elves brought you a spoon instead of a dress, surely there isn't anything missing." He scoffed.

Hermione cleared her throat and started again. "I don't have any undergarments..." She tried to explain uncomfortably. Her voice was still weak and her throat still sore, with every breath it worsened. She didn't mind that she had no shoes; that was, until she stepped on something sharp or the floor became unbearably cold.

"I know." The sides of Malfoy's mouth curled up slightly, showing Hermione he had made this purely intentional and for her discomfort. Hermione's face contorted into an expression that was full of confusion as well as anger.

"You're not a housekeeper, or a maid, or a nanny, Granger." He laughed menacingly. "You're a slave. You have no choice but to do what I command and for not even a knut. If you refuse to do what is asked of you or do it incorrectly, you will be sent straight back down to the basement. If you try and disapparate, I will know and I will find you, and the punishment will be worse than you've ever imagined." He explained, his eyes narrowing at the girl, who had started to hide herself further behind the door in an attempt to become invisible. "I don't have the luxury of company from my friends much, since they are still taking classes at Hogwarts, so yes, I may be using you for some entertainment and my own pleasure. Do you understand?" Hermione nodded slowly. "Answer me."

"Yes..." She whispered.

"Yes what?"

"Yes, I understand." She continued.

"Yes I understand who?" He challenged.

"Yes, I understand-sir...?" She tried.

"I am Master Malfoy to you now." He stated

"Yes, I understand, Master Malfoy." The slave said stridently.

Draco took tremendous delight in seeing her below him finally, not being treated like some goddess for being a Gryffindor and Harry Potter's friend, and having her take an order from him. He was her master now, her leader, her superior, like he should have always been.

"Now," He continued. "Step away from that door, let me see you."

Hermione gulped and then took a deep breath before emerging from behind the door. Draco's lips were already parted, ready to fire insults away at her appearance. But he couldn't. His mouth just plummeted to the floorboards at the sight of her, and his crossed arms dropped. She looked stunning, breath-taking, radiant, and seductive even.

Her skin seemed to glow and looked incredibly smooth, and he had an overwhelming urge to reach out and caress it. The exhausted nest of golden-brown tresses that framed her face had finally relaxed back to their natural curliness, with a scattered selection of waves and coils in her hair that shone like rays of sun.

Draco needed to restrain himself from looking anywhere past her face. He knew that if he looked at her body for too long he wouldn't be able to stand it. The dress hugged every part of her body perfectly, accenting every curve of her form. Her body was made up of curves that enticed him and begged him to run his mouth over. Legs that went on forever spilled from a set of hips so widely defined he knew she'd make him go mad. A waist impossibly thin that flared up to show case the greatest looking bust he'd ever seen. _Fuck_, he thought. _That dress needs to go_. Those legs were driving him wild; he needed to tear off the dress. _Merlin help me!_ He bit down hard on his lip. Her breasts. _Her fucking perfectly rounded, propped up, perky, voluptuous, begging to be grabbed, tits. That dress is going to be the death of me. _

He hadn't expected this. She was supposed to look even more repulsive than she already was, and she was supposed to feel incredibly degraded. Instead, she was making him go crazy over her body and probably knew it. _This isn't fair_. He pouted. He wanted to throw her on the bed, tear off the dress, and fuck her until she screamed or his body gave out. _Fuck, I better not be showing._ He glanced down quickly and noticed that indeed, he was. _For Salazar's sake don't let her notice. She'd never let it go, much less everything else I've done._

"Master Malfoy?" She addressed him after a long uncomfortable silence. She felt like an animal at the zoo, and he was probably going to become one of those little children who started to yell things at them and slap their sticky little hands onto the glass and laugh.

He looked up at her face and let the thoughts that were racing around his mind roll down his spine and into a box that his imagination would surely take out and toy with during his sleep. This plan was already backfiring on him.

"Where am I to sleep?"

The question spawned even more images in his mind. How amazing it would feel to have his arms wrapped around her smaller body protectively, feeling her breath up against his bare chest, seeing how peaceful she looked as she dreamt happy things. Maybe she would help him sleep better and longer. He quickly snapped out of it; that would be treating her like an equal, which she was far from.

"The floor, where you belong with the dirt and the vermin." He replied coldly.

"Which floor?" Hermione asked after thinking it over.

Malfoy pursed his lips slightly and crossed his arms again. "Mine. So I can keep an eye on you and make sure you aren't going and try to be sneaky or steal anything during the night."

"When will I be allowed to sleep?" Hermione continued. She knew that she wouldn't be able to anyway, knowing that Draco would be a few feet from her and that he could request her at any time of the night, or even try and disturb her sleep with pranks or hexes.

"From the moment I slip into my bed to the moment I open my eyes are you permitted to sleep. If I find you dozing off or sleeping during any other point of the day, you will be punished."

"Will I be allowed a blanket or pillow?" She carried on.

"You ask an excessive amount of questions." Draco narrowed his eyes, becoming annoyed. "You will be seen and not heard; such a disgrace to the wizarding world is lucky to be seen living at all, especially here." There was venom in his words, and Hermione could feel it poisoning her. "If my parents ask something of you, you will do it immediately without fail, unless you are already obligated to accomplish a task by me."

"Yes, Master Malfoy." Hermione nodded. "I only have one last question, and I won't ask another until I desperately need to."

"That question would be?" Draco asked nonchalantly. "And make it quick, Granger."

"You didn't mention what I am to do if your aunt Bellatrix asks something of me."

Draco drew in a sharp breath and then narrowed his eyes again. "If my aunt so much as speaks in your direction, pay no attention to her. That's an order. If she asks you, tell her that I ordered you to do as such. If she even lays a finger on you, I would like to be notified as soon as possible, since she has no permission to touch you after what she's done, and since you are an object of mine, not hers." Hermione was offended, being referred to as an object. Nevertheless she was going to have to get accustomed to it.

/

/

/

Lucius Malfoy sat in his office looking into the blazing fireplace like a king on his throne. Or at least, that's how he should have felt. He had a wife, a son, a luxurious manor, riches beyond compare, and had the honor of being headquarters for the Dark Lord and the Death Eaters. Yet, it wasn't that simple.

Narcissa was so distant, so cold and unlike herself and everything he did to try and get her to return to her old self seemed to drive the wife he knew deeper and deeper into her shell. Sleeping next to the woman was like sleeping on eggshells; incredibly uncomfortable and awkward. None of them ever moved, frozen in place. He didn't dare try to hold her at night anymore; he didn't dare try to be intimate. He was married to a ghost.

Draco no longer entirely feared him, but saw him as weak and hated him for being sent to Azkaban, making the Dark Lord choose him to kill Albus Dumbledore; thus making up for his father's failure. Because of Lucius, Draco had become a Death Eater at age sixteen, and his entire life he tried to be like his father and impress him, but now it seemed that the tables had turned. He was an embarrassment to his whole family.

The manor wasn't at all what it used to be. It was the envy of almost every wizard, the jewel of Wiltshire, and had no comparison. That was, until the Dark Lord came. Voldemort and his followers tore through the manor like a tornado, stripping it of its glory and its energy. Everything now revolved around those meetings, and whenever they were summoned, Lucius dreaded it.

"_Luci_..." Bellatrix's voice floated through the hallway. "_Luci_..." He hated when she called him that. "Oh, _Lu_-ci!" She pushed open the cracked door.

"I don't know anyone in this room that responds to or has been given that name." He put his glass of fire whiskey on the table beside him and set the tips of his fingers together in a steeple formation, touching his slightly puckered lips.

"Didn't know a man as intoxicated as you could be so serious." Bellatrix's upper lip twitched on the left in displeasure.

"That's all one can be in these times." Lucius stared straight into the fire, watching the flames lick at the bricks surrounding it and the embers fly upwards. He didn't want to look behind him at Bellatrix, he wanted to forget about everything. "Seriously intoxicated..." he huffed.

"We've failed him." Bellatrix stated, walking up to the armchair and putting her hands on the top corner. Lucius already hated that he was able to smell her yards away, but when she was right behind him it was extremely unbearable. "Harry Potter hasn't been seen or located."

Lucius put a hand over his mouth and then slid it down his stubbly chin. "What else have we to do?" He pleaded, almost to himself. "We have every Death Eater looking for him, we've looked in every possible place, and almost every eye in the entire wizarding world is looking for him! If they can't find him...how can I?"

"The snatchers found him once and they can do it again!" She hissed angrily in his ear. "I am disgusted by the lack of concern from you! You even said yourself that everyone was looking for him," She stepped back a little and put a hand on her hip. "What are you doing Lucius?" She implored. "YOU'RE SITTING ON YOUR ARSE AND DRINKING AWAY THE REALITY!"

Lucius got up and had the glass of fire whisky flung at the wall, an inch away from Bellatrix's head, in a split second. "Don't," he snarled "Insult me again."

"You don't need any help from me." Bellatrix said devilishly.

Lucius picked up his cane and whipped the wand out from it and pointed it at her, challenging her to say another word. She laughed, one that came from deep in her throat, and then said in a whisper, "Do it. I want to see you kill me." She stepped forwards until the tip of the wand was digging into the centre of her chest. "You're not the man you used to be. Not even when _provoked_."

"You're not worth it." Lucius let his wand down and started to walk away.

"You say I'm not worth it, do you? That's a laugh coming from you!" She jeered at him.

"You don't understand the pressure I'm under!"

"Take your so called pressure out on the girl."

"Girl?" He relaxed a little. "What girl?"

"The Mudblood we captured. Hermione Granger. Draco's taken her as his slave." She laughed at the thought.

"She's a companion of Potter's isn't she?"

"There you go." Bellatrix's tone suggested that she was trying to get to something.

"Wouldn't he and his friend Weasley be coming back for her?" He asked. Bellatrix started smiling, and it grew with what he said next. "They'll be trying to free her...from the manor..."

"It's perfect!" Bellatrix clapped. "They'll be trapped when they come back for the bitch!"

"And this will all be over..."

"Potter will be dead!"

"We'll be able to breathe again..."

"This is one of my best plans yet!" Bellatrix beamed with pride.

"Your plan?" Lucius laughed. "Surely you're mistaken; I was the one who thought of it!"

"Whatever gets you to sleep at night, Lucius."

But he wouldn't be able to sleep. No one would

/

/

/

The slave's first assignment from Malfoy was to clean his entire room. She had to sweep and clean the floorboards, wash every single window as well as polish the wooden panelling, collect and wash all of his clothes, pick up the various objects on the floor and try to return them to their proper places, as well as dust everything from his desk to the little figurines of Viktor Krum that were crammed between various papers and objects on the top of his dresser.

She had been sorting through the mountains of what could only be described as stuff on top of his dresser. It caught her eye and she picked it up, running her fingers over the smooth porcelain and remembering her short relationship with Krum. He was her first kiss, first boyfriend, first boy to ask her to dance, and the first person to tell her that she was so important to him that he wanted her to spend the summer with him in Bulgaria. But that never happened, though they wrote letters frequently and she saw him again at Fleur and Bill's wedding.

She held the figurine up against her chest and looked out the window into what was now the night sky, wondering where he was and if he ever wondered the same about her-or if he was still alive to do it.

"Get your filthy hands off of my belongings!" Malfoy stormed into the room, startling her and making her drop the figurine on the floor. _Weren't you the one who told me to clean everything?_

She gasped and fell to the floor, trying desperately to pick up the pieces as fast as she could and dispose of them_. Maybe it's a sign,_ Hermione thought, _maybe it's a sign that he's dead, just like everyone else that I love._

"Look at what you've done you clumsy idiot!" Malfoy yelled as she reached down, like she had many times that day, to search for her wand to repair the broken figurine. She still wasn't used to being able to use her wand after all these months.

_For fucks sake_, he groaned, _does she have to bend over right in my face wearing that?_ He tried to distract himself away from her and focus onto the item she had just broken. "Is that my Viktor Krum figure?" Draco asked. "Why were you touching it?"

"I-I was trying to figure out a p-place to put it." She stuttered, walking over to the trash bin and disposing of the broken pieces. "There are three others on the dresser-"

"Which you are no longer permitted to touch since you have proven you can't be trusted with such valuable possessions of mine."

"Yes, Master Malfoy." Hermione nodded. She went back to straightening out some papers on the dresser when Draco spoke again.

"Didn't you go with Krum?" He asked, looking genuinely interested in the subject.

She remembered how fanatical Draco was about Krum. He had sat next to him every chance he got, tried striking up a conversation with any subject he could possibly think of, and would trail after him a few feet away from his posse of girls and fellow schoolmates.

"Yes..." She replied weakly. "I was also his date to the Yule ball." She remembered that night well, it was hard to forget. It was the first time she had felt truly beautiful, and people acted towards her as if she were royalty. But that was before Ron happened. _Ron._

"What happened after that?" He asked, waltzing over to a black armchair in the left corner of his room, leaning in intently.

"Well," She continued, turning to him. "We parted ways at the end of the school year. We wrote letters for a while but we eventually lost touch." She started to walk back to where the glass had fallen to the floor and was about to step on a few pieces of glass with her bare feet, since she hadn't been given anything to protect them.

"STOP!" Draco ordered, seeing that she had forgotten some seemingly large chunks. He didn't wish for her to get hurt any further than she already had been.

She looked over to him, startled, and waited for another command. When he didn't say anything, she looked down and in front of her and saw what he meant. "You need to watch where you're fucking go-"She bent down again and tried her best to pick up every last piece down to the slivers and throw them away. There she was, right in front of him, teasing him and daring him to touch her.

She looked back at him again, waiting to see what he was going to say next. "You need to do a better job next time and not almost injure yourself in the process." He flew off the armchair and over to the dresser, where she was crouched next to him, and retrieved his pajama pants, heading off towards the bathroom.

_Fuck!_ He gripped the sides of the sink, letting it fill up with cold water. _Stop looking at her, stop thinking about her, stop-_ he started to get flustered_-JUST STOP AND PULL YOURSELF TOGETHER MALFOY!_ He tore off his clothes and slipped the black pants on, returning to his old position. He looked at himself in the mirror, and saw that he was a mess. He ran a hand through his matted up hair and reached into the freezing cold water, cupping some in his hands and splashing it onto his face.

When he came out from the bathroom, Hermione almost started drooling. His hair was all messed up and wavy, unlike his usual slicked back perfect sty. Water was all over his face and on the ends of his silvery hair, dripping down past his neck and down his chest. Her eyes followed the water and saw that he wasn't even wearing anything to hide his chest. God, to look at it again without any soapy water in the way, to be able to see his muscles that she never thought he had.

"What are you gaping at?" Draco asked, putting a hand on his hip.

"N-nothing, Master Malfoy." She tried to re-gain her train of thought, but he was her centre of attention. It was like trying to ignore a fireworks display. "Thank you." She said, after finally looking away from his body, and turning back to the dresser.

"For what?"

"For warning me about the glass on the floor."

"It's common courtesy." He shrugged it off and strolled over to his bed.

"I thought I wasn't common?" She asked, pointing out who she was in his family's eyes.

"I didn't want to have to deal with healing another one of your injuries." He improvised.

"The enjoyment of seeing me in pain wouldn't have outweighed the burden of healing me? Which was by your choice and your choice alone." She asked innocently.

"I don't enjoy seeing anyone in pain." He lied. She gave him a look as to say 'really now', one that in any other circumstance would have made him slap her. "You didn't do anything to deserve having pain inflicted upon you."

"I dropped one of your possessions, a very rare one from the Quidditch World Cup, I presume."

"If you don't hold your tongue I will inflict pain on you that you have deserved." He threatened, climbing into his bed.

"My apologies, Master Malfoy." She lowered her head and turned back to the dresser once more.

"You may resume cleaning tomorrow. You can sleep now." He pulled back his black comforter and tucked himself under it.

"Thank you, Master Malfoy."

The slave obediently walked over to the side of the bed and lay down, trying to find a somewhat comfortable position to sleep in. It took a few minutes, closing her eyes and trying out each position, until she found one using her right arm and left hand as a pillow did she fall asleep. She surprisingly fell asleep instantly, though Malfoy, as usual, had a very hard time. He stared at the ceiling for a half an hour before he decided that Hermione really was asleep, and he turned over to look at her.

There were goose bumps all over her body, and she had started to shiver in her sleep from the cold. He started to feel bad that she had nothing to sleep on or to cover her body. It would have looked strange if he went looking for an extra blanket or pillow, and the house elves were permitted a box with an improvised padding or pillow and a rag for a blanket that surely wouldn't fit over Hermione or get her any warmer. If he slipped off his comforter and wrapped it around her and he took it off of her before she woke up, no one would notice his act of kindness.

/

/

/

It was the dead of the night, and Malfoy had finally fallen asleep an hour or two earlier. The crescent moon was in full view of the windows, and its moonbeams shone a spotlight on the little slave girl and her master sleeping.

Malfoy's nightmares started to plague him once again, and he started to talk in his sleep. It started as a mere murmur, then a mumble of a word, and then it escalated to loud cries. It was enough to stir Hermione.

She sat up, letting the fogginess of her sleep roll out of her mind so she could understand fully what was going on around her, though some fog stayed behind. When she did, she turned around and saw Draco rolling around in his sleep, and that his comforter was wrapped around her.

_Did I steal his comforter from him in my sleep?_

She pushed that issue aside and rushed to Draco, putting her hand on his chest which had turned stone cold from the night air. "Draco," she whispered. The sound combined with the touch made Draco start to wrestle her in his sleep, making her tumble onto the bed and eventually tangle them up in the sheets.

"Malfoy!" She said urgently.

Finally, his eyes opened. He looked like he had seen a ghost and relived it's tragic death. His breathing was rushed and panicked, uncontrollable until Hermione put her hand on his collarbone in an attempt to calm him.

"Draco?" She tried again.

He looked down, realizing she was there and not the monster he was battling in his nightmares. With his brain still confused with sleep and desperate for comfort, he embraced her tightly and inhaled her freshly clean scent, and felt the softness of her curls around his face.

"It's alright," she cooed, her hand resting on the back of his neck and the other petting his hair as he cried into the curvature of her neck. "You're fine." She assured him. "Those monsters in your dreams can't hurt you anymore." His crying finally subsided and he looked up at her, staring deeply into her eyes. "It's not real." She promised, holding her hand up to his cheek.

His eyes closed slowly and he raised his hand out from under her, holding it against hers, not allowing her to move it. Her touch felt so warm and inviting, and it had been so long since he had felt a touch like that, even from a member of his family.

Still in a daze from sleep, neither Draco nor Hermione could tell who leaned in first, and when they fell asleep in each other's arms.

Was that real?

/

/

/

Lucius Malfoy sat in his study, silently sipping another glass of firewhiskey. Another bottle would be needed after the news he had just received. Bellatrix informed him that the Dark Lord would be coming to the manor in next to no time. Lucius wouldn't ever say it aloud, but the Dark Lord put the fear of Salazar in him and always wondered if he'd be alive to see tomorrow. The Death Eater became increasingly paranoid with every passing moment, wondering if the Dark Lord had changed his mind and planned to show up unexpectedly.

Lucius used to take immense pride in his home, which had been handed down generation after generation. It was his domain, his castle. Nothing was out of place or out of fashion; it would make a queen jealous. Now, the manor seemed drearier, a grim tone was always present. Most of the curtains had been nailed down to prevent sunlight from coming in, seeing as many Death Eaters and assumingly the Dark Lord despised the light.

Lucius had lost count of how many glasses he had drank that night, but noticed that he was running out of whiskey and the house elves didn't have enough time to get the bottles when he needed one late at night. His throat stung from the feeling of the whiskey, but he felt the need to have more of it.

"Lucius?" Narcissa stepped in cautiously.

She seemed to only wear grey since he had come home from Azkaban, and seemed almost lifeless and terrified around him. She was no longer the cobra that slithered at his side but a mouse that scampered away from him. She walked with heavy feet and absent eyes and never smiled.

"Narcissa, darling!" Lucius greeted his wife with a smile. He wobbled over to her drunkenly with open arms.

His wife stood frozen, not sure of what to do. She felt like she was being pushed into a corner. Lucius approached her slowly, as if he were trying not to spook her. He embraced her warmly, and she slowly did the same-yet she barely touched him. He smiled and pulled away, rubbing her arms up and down.

"I'm taking Draco to the country for a few days." Narcissa declared, trying not to breathe through her nose and trap the smell of alcohol on his breath in her system.

"Why, my dear? The Dark Lord is being summoned here in a few days."

"Draco needs some fresh air..." Narcissa tried to think of more reasons. The manor had become a prison to her and she was going to find some way to break out of it. "He needs some change, some separation from all of this..."

"The Dark Lord-"

"-is used to having absences at our table."

Lucius couldn't think of anything else that could make her stay, so he sighed a little and asked "When will you be back?" The little voice in his head told him that there was no reason for her leaving, but he didn't have the energy to disagree with her. It was easier to feel defeated.

"I-I don't know yet."

Narcissa wanted to never come back. To be rid of this life and the dark cloud of death that started to follow her family. She wanted to find happiness somewhere. Just as she would find a door or a broken window, Lucius or the Dark Lord would find a way to seal it or get rid of it altogether. This was her last chance. This little crack in the wall.

"I'm going to miss you," Lucius tilted his head and put a hand onto her cheek, which made Narcissa jump. "I have missed you..." He leaned in to kiss her and ran his free hand down the back of her dress, sending unwelcome vibrations up her spine. Narcissa slid out from under him and left the room without another word.

Lucius stood there for a few moments, staring at the darkness in the hallway hoping for her to come back. After realizing how stupid he had looked standing there with his mouth open, how stupid he had looked when his own wife had refused intimacy, he marched back over to his side table, picked up his glass and went to drink the last few drops of whiskey left, but instead sent it to the wall, making large chunks of glass shatter and rain down to the ground.

/

/

/

Butterflies. That's all that Draco Malfoy could come to think of in his mind when he felt a strange sensation on the right column of his neck. He didn't dare open his eyes until he figured out what it was. That would be too easy-he liked a challenge, even one as simple as this. His eyes felt heavy as well, he might even keep his eyes closed after he figured out what it was. He had never felt so comfortable in his bed before and didn't want to risk losing the feeling for another couple of years by getting out. His body told him that it was around ten thirty or eleven o'clock, but what harm would sleeping in a little while longer?

He let himself slip back into a dreamless sleep again for another hour before the sensation awoke him again. It felt like a butterfly had landed on his neck, the sensation was so light and gentle, but it came and went every few seconds. It was warm too, and it sent goose bumps all over his neck and arms. It was rhythmic, peaceful. He noticed that it also matched his breathing pattern, and that was enough to make him open his eyes.

It was breathing; Hermione Granger's to be exact. She was lying on her side, an inch away from his body with both arms curled up to her chest, nuzzling her body up to his. She looked like she had been made to lie there. His arms, too, were wrapped around her, almost protectively.

_She looks so beautiful when she's sleeping..._Draco thought, brushing an auburn curl away from her face and tucking it behind her ear. Her lips were parted slightly and looked redder than usual, and she wasn't her usual tensed up self. Maybe it was because of how vulnerable she was like this that made her seem so stunning. He'd never noticed how perfectly molded her features were, which he had never seen in anyone before.

This moment of grey lasted as long as his hand touched her face. _What the fuck happened last night?_ He nudged away from her slowly, trying his best not to wake her up. He didn't know if he could deal with this so early in the morning.

Everything slowly started to come back to him and piece itself together. _What have I fucking done?_ He ran both hands through his matted up hair that seemed to puff up as he got even more frustrated. _This isn't who you are. You're just desperate for a body to touch_. He got up and looked out the window and scanned over his backyard, his eyes catching on his father. _This is who you are._ He looked over to the very far side of the garden and saw his mother, hidden by a rather large rose bush from Lucius, crying into her hands. _And that's who you'll become..._

The ground beneath him started to cave in under the pressure of his thoughts that battered against his skull, trying to break through and tear him apart. The drum in his chest was about to burst with the amount of blood that was pumping through it and at an unhealthy pace. Parts of his body felt hot, others felt frozen and clammy. A layer of cold sweat had blanketed his body and made him itch.

Draco heard an augmented sigh from behind him and turned around, seeing that Hermione was waking up. She yawned and stretched, pulling her arms back and thrusting her chest forward naturally-_And that,_ he started to walk back over to the bed, _is what you need to get rid of._

"What in fucking hell do you think you're doing, sleeping in my bed?" He barked at the servant, who finally opened her eyes that were full of fear and regret. Her brain was still foggy, but it could still piece together that she had been in bed with Draco Malfoy, and she hadn't remembered fully what had happened after that.

"You were having a nightmare. Then you kissed me."

Malfoy felt his face flush, remembering that he indeed had. But he wouldn't admit it; not to her, not to anyone. "To suggest that I would ever do such a thing is making me sick already; I may vomit if I think of it for too long. I could have any woman I wanted, which already crosses you off since you're neither a woman nor even a human being, just a pathetic slag. Why Ron is infatuated with you is a mystery to me and to anyone with half a brain."

"At least I'm not a Malfoy!" Hermione gasped and put her hand over her mouth. "Forgive me master, I have forgotten my place..." She tried to recover herself, but she knew she was wasting her breath.

Adrenaline and rushed through Draco's body, he felt his face grow hot and clenched his hands into fists. He started to walk away from Hermione when he pivoted on his foot and smacked her across the face, making her drop to the floor.

"Don't you ever speak to me like that again! My family is one of, if not the most powerful family to ever grace the Wizarding World. You are nothing, a mere speck of dirt on the world's eye. You are Muggle Born, a disgrace to Hogwarts and the world my father is trying so hard to protect and return to its former glory. You are nothing and you will never amount to more than that." Poison rolled off of Draco's tongue at a speed he had never spoken at before, and Hermione's eyes were overflowing with hot tears.

Hermione bit down on her lip, trying to redirect the pain there and hopefully to prevent her from crying even more. "It was m-my fault...I wasn't...it was the first thing I thought of..."

Scarlet beads of blood ran down from the corner of her lip that still quivered. A shaking hand covered up her cheek, which stung like fire. Even after everything Bellatrix had done, something about Malfoy hitting her pained her more than she'd expected.

"Clean your nauseating shit up and find a way to stop it from infecting any other part of my manor. Then take a bath and make yourself look as presentable as a minger like you possibly can." Draco snarled before storming out and slamming the door behind him.

Once the slave believed he was out of earshot, she let herself weep loudly into her hands for a few minutes, re-playing what had just happened in her head over and over again.

Whenever she felt terrible, her brain would automatically put things in her head to make her feel even more so. She remembered when she was a child in elementary school the other schoolchildren wouldn't ever want to play with her or even be around her, because strange things would happen whenever they made her mad or made fun of her. She remembered the school-girl crush she'd had on Ron that she wouldn't admit even to herself, and overheard him making fun of her their first year. She remembered when Malfoy had called her a Mudblood during second year. She remembered when Ron had managed to ruin the ball with Krum. She remembered when Ron let Lavender drape herself over him whenever Hermione was in sight. But it was not what she remembered that made her cry the most; but what she knew: She would be stuck in this hell of a manor forever.

/

/

/

Draco had been sitting on the patio outside, becoming entangled in his thoughts. He didn't know who he was anymore, but he knew that what his parents told him he was destined to become was no longer what he _was_ becoming. He was becoming his heart's bitch, and the more he fought back the more Cupid's bow dug into his heart and twisted around. He wanted to make the pain stop; he wanted to stop causing _her_ pain-but he couldn't. He wouldn't let himself. He knew that if he gave in for more than a second that he would be lost-his family, his friends, and his reputation-if the wrong people found out even his life.

He didn't know exactly what was making him act and feel such a way towards Hermione, but he knew he had to put an end to it without putting an end to her. _I could send her to sleep in the kitchens and only work with the house elves..._He considered_. No, Bellatrix could find her. I'd still manage to see her..._

Judging from the direction of where the sun was, he could tell that it was past five or six now. He had come outside hours ago, and was still wrestling with the thoughts in his mind. _What am I even fucking feeling?_ He asked himself. He'd never been in love before; much less liked anyone unless throwing them against the wall or ordering them onto their knees counted. What Draco did know was that love wasn't this. It wasn't a pureblood and a mudblood, or a lapse of judgement during the night. This was him being desperate for attention and affection.

Maybe, just maybe, he'd let himself have a quick fuck with her and then forget about her again. _That should satisfy me_. He thought. But he knew it wouldn't be. He knew that he would be back for more after that, and there would be some connection between them afterwards. He'd never fucked anyone before, why would he sleep with her? Sure, he had more than enough chances with Pansy, but the thought of her made his nose scrunch. He would just pretend she was someone else whenever she was touching him.

_You can't fool yourself, no matter how hard you try._ A side of his head told him. He rested his elbows against his knees and raked his hands through his hair. It was going to be an awful mess after this. _You want her and you know it. You want those curls to wrap around your fingers like ribbons, her lips to be against yours, her artwork of a body to be warm against you and your hands-you want her to tell you that she's never felt such a way towards someone. _

"No." He whispered to himself, starting to hyperventilate. Why wouldn't his brain fucking shut up?

_But you won't ever have it because you treat her like dirt so that you can convince yourself that you aren't developing feelings for the most intelligent and compassionate girl you've ever laid eyes on. _

"No!"

_You knew what you were doing when you took her in, when you saved her. You knew what you were doing last night. But all of those efforts were washed away because you won't let yourself be shown what happiness is. _

"NO!"

Draco didn't notice that he had managed to pull out bits of his hair until his mother was beside him and yelled "Draco!" frantically. Her face was full of shock and her eyes bugged out when she gave her son a good look.

He was a mess; he had hair in his hands, beads of sweat running down his temples, and a crazed look in his eye. He looked like Lucius did last night-but all too young and all too early. He was going to need this trip. She'd find somewhere out there to take him to-_anywhere_.

"My boy, what's happened?" She put her hand on his shoulder which seemed to make him antsier and more irritated.

"Mother, please!" He moved his shoulder out from under her hand and went back to staring straight in front of him.

"Draco, I think we need a trip out to the country-"

"No. I won't go with you two."

"It's-it's just you and I, dear." Narcissa attempted a smile.

"We have nowhere to go out in the country."

"We'll find a place. We need some separation-"

"I'm fine here. You go."

"Draco, look at you." Narcissa pleaded with him. "You're a wreck!"

"ARE YOU DEAF OR JUST BRAINLESS?" Malfoy snarled at her, the veins in his neck becoming visible. Narcissa stepped back, almost tripping over a stray rock behind her. "I'M NOT GOING TO THE COUNTRY OR ANYWHERE WITH YOU AND I'M STAYING HERE!"

Narcissa shuddered and turned her head away from her son. She dared not let him take satisfaction in seeing her cry. Her son was gradually turning into her monster of a husband, and she didn't know if she could bear to watch any longer. "I guess it's settled then." Narcissa said weakly. "I'll leave tonight." She turned away from him and went towards the maze hurriedly to let herself cry in private.

Malfoy picked up the rock on the ground and went to throw it but never let go. It was sharp on a few ends, not smooth at all. If it was an animal he would've killed it under his grip by now, and he could feel the rock pierce his palm. He finally threw it at the ground and stormed through the manor and up the stairs towards his room.

He flung open the door and slammed it shut, finding his slave laying out new sheets on his bed, but she was still dirty. Her hair was more frizzed than it had been when he last saw her, and there was a cut on the corner of her lip from when he had hit her.

When she had gone down to the kitchens earlier to find one of the women elves for help, they all scattered away from her with sour looks on their faces.

"Dirty mangy MUDBLOOD!" One of the older elves screamed.

There was only one left, possibly the one who had given her the uniform in the bathroom a while ago. She got Hermione what she needed, trying to avoid been seen or speaking to her, and then left in a hurry.

The sight of him struck unspeakable terror in Hermione, and she wanted to run or scream, but she couldn't move. He looked like he was ready to kill her. He marched over to her and threw her against the wall harshly, throwing her arms up and holding them there at the wrists with his hands.

"WHY HAVEN'T YOU FIXED YOURSELF YET? WHY DO YOU STILL LOOK LIKE A PEICE OF SHIT THAT HAS ROLLED AROUND IN THE SEWERS? WHAT ARE YOU TRYING TO DO? THINK YOU CAN GET UNDER MY SKIN SO YOU CAN TRY AND HURT ME?" He roared inches away from the slave's face, who was trembling at every word. "TELL ME!" He cried madly. "WHY DO YOU DO THIS TO ME? WHY DO YOU MAKE ME DO THESE THINGS? WHY DO YOU MAKE ME FEEL THIS WAY?" the small girl shook so much that her head hit the wall with a loud thunk that brought Draco back out of his fit and realized the pain on her face.

"What have I done...?" He whispered, as if he was speaking to himself. He let go of her wrists and placed a hand on her tear stricken face. "Don't cry...please...dearest..." She opened her eyes to look at him, and she saw that he meant the words he was saying. "I'm so sorry, Granger...I'm so sorry..." He snaked his hands around her shoulder and her waist, holding her close. He soon let go and fell to his knees so his head rested against her abdomen. "Please forgive me for what I've done!" Hermione wondered if he had ever told someone if he was sorry before, and if he had meant it.

She looked down and had to blink to believe what she was seeing was real. Draco Malfoy, who had tormented her since the moment he saw her, who had no more than hours earlier hit her so hard she fell to the ground, was on his knees begging for her forgiveness. The sight made her cry even more, and Draco stood back up and took her face in his hands again.

"Please, don't cry..." He seemed to beg. "Don't cry..." His voice became softer as he got closer to her and kissed her cheeks.

"Look at me." She ordered, which Malfoy obeyed.

His stormy grey eyes dilated again, which triggered a long lost memory in her mind from reading in the library summers ago. She had read that when a human saw something that they liked or cared for their eyes would dilate. Hermione tried not to get lost in his gaze, but she couldn't shake it until she was forced to close them when Draco kissed her.

Seeming as stunned as he was, Hermione heard Draco make a whisper-soft sound of pain and want against his mouth. The kiss was affectionate yet hesitant, out of fear that Draco would be rejected, but Hermione's arms wrapping around his neck signalled otherwise. He kissed her again, becoming shorter and firmer, without an awkward miss or wrong placement. Then deeper and longer, coaxing her mouth open with the velvet stroke of his tongue.

When Draco stopped to look at her she said, hurt, "Please, don't."

Draco's brow furrowed. Did she not want him to touch her anymore? "Don't what?" He asked.

"Don't stop kissing me." Her lip quivered slightly. "Because if you stop for too long I know that you'll-"

He knew what she was going to say before she finished, and he knew that she may be right. He decided to prove her wrong by stopping her protest; kissing her roughly and pouring her backwards onto the bed. He ran his hands down to her arms and was about to run them down her chest but he stopped himself, not knowing if she would be okay with allowing him. She grabbed his hand and put it in the centre of her chest, and he started to run his hands over every accessible point of her body, unable to get enough of her skin.

Hermione put a hand on the back of his neck and the other grabbed onto his arm, giving her the chance to flip him over and lie on top of him. She began to tear open his shirt, sending buttons everywhere and freckled kisses on his pale chest over and over again. She pushed herself to an upright position and brought Draco's arms up to her chest violently, putting her hands over his and guiding him through undoing the buckles that confined her in the front of the corset.

The black cage slid down her body and exposed her statuesque features. Something told Draco to turn his head away, that he couldn't look at her like this. She brought his hands back up again and placed them against her breasts. Why was this situation so different? She was telling him to look at her and to touch her, but why couldn't he do it?

"Look at me, Draco." He turned his head back slowly, avoiding her chest and looking at her eyes. She pushed his hands away so that nothing was hiding herself. She reached around to the back of his neck to try and bring him up towards her, but he acted quicker than her and had her pinned beneath him once again.

"This isn't you." He told her, trying to pierce through her trance with some sense.

"This isn't _you_." Hermione pointed out.

"Not now...not like this..." He panted, shaking his head.

The smile faded from Hermione's face, but she wasn't unhappy. She understood what he wanted and why, and brought him down for another kiss. He turned himself to the right so that he fell onto his side and he could hold her against him. He tried to ignore the feeling of her against his chest, but he didn't want to upset her further by telling her to pull her dress back on. He reached down to the un-made top sheet and placed it over them, closing his eyes soundly.

Hermione tried to slither out from under him and onto the floor, where her dress had slid down to, but Draco's fingers curled around her wrist again. "Please. Stay." She turned around and looked at him, trying to cover herself. He took her hands away and led her back into bed with him. He turned her onto her side so they were front to back and placed his hand on her stomach.

"You can't do this." Hermione said disheartened.

"Do what?" He asked innocently, about to take his hand away from her.

"You're going to be different in the morning."

Draco opened his mouth to breathe, but air only escaped from him with a long sigh. He placed two fingers on the bridge of his nose and then spread his hand out and ran it over the right side of his face. "I can't go back to that after this, there's no way I could. Last night, that could've been blamed on me seeking comfort and having blind judgement after dreaming. This? I can't blame this on anything but my own self. I wanted to be here with you, as much as it kills me to admit. I may regret saying this in the morning, but I don't regret who I'm spending it with."

"How can I trust that? You could use this against me like any other moment of weakness."

"You're forgetting that you could easily do the same. I saved you from Bellatrix because I couldn't see you get tortured any longer or wait for you to die. I wanted an excuse to keep you alive and fall asleep knowing that you were still breathing. Something good was still alive in these darkest of times."

"If you betray my trust again, I'll never speak to you again. I'll have a thousand lashings and sessions with Bellatrix before I even acknowledged your existence."

"You have my word as a Malfoy." He promised, kissing her neck.

_What a promise that is_. She rolled her eyes. After a long silence, Hermione finally spoke up. "You realize that it's only about seven or so?"

"And?"

"You can't possibly expect us to just fall-"

"For fuck's sake Granger just shut up and let me kiss you!"

/

/

/

The sun was still low when the young witch opened her eyes. She scanned the room for something to tell her the time, and found a clock on the wall that read seven o'three. She looked over her shoulder to take a peek at the sleeping Slytherin.

He hadn't woken her up during the night, which made her think that he hadn't been plagued by his nightmares again. The serene look on his face and steady breathing made her more relaxed, but knowing he would soon wake up made her go stiff again.

She watchfully removed his hand from her side by picking it up by his index finger, wishing it wouldn't wake him. His shirt had been twisted and rode up every which way, and exposed his left forearm. It bore the Dark Mark, and it drove a nauseating feeling through Hermione's body. She was terrified of the mark, and it made her sick to see it on Draco. She knew it didn't belong on his arm.

Sliding out of bed, she bent over and picked up her uniform and tip-toed as silently as possible to the bathroom and clicked the door closed. She let a smile spread over her face and let out an all-too-loud sigh of relief at the reality of peace of quiet and a few minutes of privacy.

Hermione reached for her leg to take out her wand, but then remembered she didn't have one any longer. It was like going to take a test without a quill. A sinking feeling filled her chest as she kneeled down to turn on the faucet.

The sound of the hot water hitting the porcelain was louder than a waterfall. _Godric_ _why does the world decide to make every sound louder than a gunshot when you're trying to have quiet?_ She placed her hand under the spout and tilted it so it was halfway in the water, acting as an open pipe that made the splashes of water much softer. Her hand had become as wrinkly as a hundred year old hag's by the time the enormous tub had filled up with enough water.

She tested the water with her foot instinctively, although she had been holding her hand under it for quite a long time. She lowered herself slowly into the water, trying to reduce the sound of the water moving up to her collarbone as she let herself sink.

Just as she thought she was comfortable and relaxed, she heard the doorknob turn. _Merlin no. _

Draco poked his head in, somewhat hopeful that he'd get another glance at her form, and was only a little disappointed when he found her in the water already with her back to him.

"Can I join you?" He asked timidly, breaking the silence. He couldn't think of anything better to say after what happened last night.

"No." Replied Hermione flatly.

"Can I come in?" He tried again.

"No." She repeated, obviously irritated. This angered him so he almost ripped his clothes when he started to undress and practically jumped into the water and landed right in front of her, sending water everywhere. "What do you think you're doi-"

"You do realize that this home is mine, this bathroom is mine, and that you're mine?" She went to hit him but he seized her wrist with a wet slapping sound and gritted his teeth. "Quit trying to fucking hit me!"

"When a lady says no, she means-"

"I don't see any ladies here."

"Argh!" Hermione tried to break free from his death grip and hit him again, but he tightened around her wrist painfully, laughing with a twisted enjoyment when capturing her other hand.

"You look awfully sexy when you're livid, Granger." He teased, watching her body thrash about and the water fly everywhere. "So _fiery_!" He observed her eyes, which had narrowed and looked like a dark brown.

The slave grunted and still struggled against him until she had what seemed like a bright idea at the time. She tried to swing her leg in the water to hit his groin, but lost her balance and slid under the water. She expected him to hold her under the water like a cruel child, but after a few seconds she felt his hands grab onto hers, pull her up, and trap her again. She hated the thought of someone having more control over her than she permitted.

Draco liked watching her fight back, her wet body moving violently in the water. He couldn't stop himself by taking it one step further and burying his face in the crook of her neck, kissing and biting at the flesh. "You know," Draco said between kisses "The more you struggle, the more, I'll keep on doing this." He chuckled menacingly.

"I really hate you." Hermione sneered.

"Hate me or what I'm doing?" he purred. _Merlin she's going to kill me for this!_ Draco smiled to himself and he lowered his lips so he could work on her chest. He lowered his hands, encircling her breasts delicately. He cupped them in his hands roughly and leaned forwards to capture her nipple in his mouth. Hermione moaned and arched her back, allowing Malfoy to take in more of her. He ran his tongue over her nipple and felt it harden under his touch. _Another_ step further. His mouth started to fill with water, but if that's what he had to deal with to watch her squirm, he'd put up with it. He nipped at her, causing the girl to yelp with pain.

"If you're going to do that you could at least not make me bleed." She said, annoyed.

"So you do like it?" He asked slyly.

"No, I don't." She said firmly.

"You sure? Your body says otherwise." He lowered his head again and flicked her nipple with his tongue.

He could feel her chest start to heave, her breathing became heavy. Malfoy resumed what he was doing, flicking his tongue over it and pausing to suck on it every few seconds. A quiet, but not quiet enough for Malfoy to not pick up on, moan escaped Hermione's mouth and Malfoy immediately stopped to laugh in her face at his victory.

Hermione gasped, realizing that he had planned to drive her crazy and then stop when he got an acceptable reaction out of her. She closed her mouth and clenched her teeth, pretending his body was being crushed between them.

"You loathsome, sick, sadistic bastard!"

"Ooh, Granger's breaking the rules!"

"What rule? The one about pretending like and telling you you're not a pathetic git?"

Malfoy's amused expression vanished and a flood of rage washed over him, the water felt like it was starting to boil. Hermione hoped that she was just imagining it. Malfoy seemed to be in a daze, almost crushing Hermione's bones under his grasp seizing her wrists. "Malfoy, you're hurting me!" Hermione cried out.

He held her wrists with one hand and traced the other down her torso. He stroked the back of his fingers down her bust, his breath laboured as he continued, before stopping his hand on her hip. He rubbed his thumb back and forth possessively as he leaned into her neck and pressed his lips to her wet skin. He pushed against her, growling low in his throat at the sensation of her against him. He felt her shiver when he nipped the skin of her throat, felt her breath shudder as he pressed his hips to hers.

"The one about respect and calling me by Master Malfoy," He answered, rolling his hips against hers, causing her to shiver and go weak against him. "You filthy mudblood!" The boy roared. "You break the rules, and I break _you_!" He could smell her fear, could feel it emanating off her and almost sighed. He did not want her to fear him; he wanted her to want him. He knew deep down she did, he had seen as much in her eyes countless times.

Malfoy's left hand let go of her wrist and traced its way down her stomach, feeling her tremble at his touch. His fingers immediately found her slit and Hermione let out a little gasp of pleasure. Malfoy made his way back up to her side so that he could watch her face for her reactions. With one finger he gently traced her opening. She was completely gone and she knew it.

She bit her lip until she tasted blood, not allowing a single sound to escape. All she could think about was Malfoy's fingers against her skin, pleasuring her in a way she had never dreamt of. It felt breathtaking and she didn't want it to stop. Malfoy groaned softly as her clit hardened between his fingers. His fingers moved away from her clit Hermione whimpered until he found her opening. He slid his fingers inside and the slave sucked in a breath sharply.

Malfoy's lust blinded him and his conscience lost all control over his thoughts and actions. He could see what he was doing. He could feel himself raise her up and heard her intake as he pressed his length's tip against her and waited before breaking through her innocence. She arched up and he wrapped his arm around her, his hand cupping her breast as he pulled her up against his chest and swallowed her screams with his kiss He could hear her scream in pain, but he couldn't stop. He didn't want to be doing this, but his body had all control.

He must have lost his grasp on Hermione, because her hands were halfway down his back, fingernails digging into his flesh. It was excruciatingly painful for her at first, a burning and foreign feeling her body did not accept yet. She knew that he had done this without her say so, and that she should not like it, or even let it happen. She could not deny that she wasn't mad at him for doing this unexpectedly, because deep down she had been aching for it. She needed to feel wanted by somebody after so long. Her mind paid no attention to the person who was giving her attention and affection, just how wonderful it felt.

"Draco."

Hearing her voice brought him back into his body, allowing him to lift his head to look into her eyes. They were golden again, there was something in her eyes that he had never seen before and he couldn't quite put a finger on what it was. His head understood it, but he could not describe what it was. Togetherness? No. Lust? No.

Malfoy's thoughts were interrupted by Hermione kissing him and then grasping the back of his head and pulling him towards her collarbone. To his astonishment, she started to move her hips into him, taking in his desire at a rhythmic pace. She was allowing this to happen.

Godric how she'd wanted this-this feeling, this pleasure, this sensation-but she didn't want the emotion. It was in his eyes, his fast breaths, his groans, his movements, the frantic crashing of lips to skin. She didn't want that. She wanted what was causing her sharp moans, all of her muscles to tense up around him, the warmth and rising feeling of ecstasy that was about to explode after a few more thrusts. After all the pain she'd been through she had a right to give in to what her body yearned for and what made her feel-complete? No. That meant emotion. She wouldn't let herself get lost in that again.

The last few seconds were torture. The act had already been a mixture of pain and bliss, although the pleasure won over her body sooner than later, but knowing that they were so close to the end yet not there wanted to make her scream.

There was a loud snapping sound, and Draco dunked Hermione underwater to keep her hidden from whatever had just apparated into the bathroom.

"GET OUT OF HERE YOU LOW LIFE! HAVE YOU EVER HEARD OF KNOCKING YOU INSUFFERABLE TWAT?" Draco screamed, succeeding in making the house elf drop the towels on the floor crying and disapparate from the room. An extremely painful sensation had formed below his waist, and he wanted to collapse.

Draco moved his hand off the top of Hermione's head and she whipped her head out from under the water taking in large gulps of air. She placed her arms on the side of the tub and tried to lift herself out of the water, giving Draco a nice look at the water cascading down the back of her body. Her arms gave out after a few seconds; her body was in a weird state. It had been put in a new type of weakness where her bones felt like lead, her thighs wouldn't stop shaking, and her arms and legs felt like tissue paper.

Ignoring his pain, he stepped out of the water and offered out a hand towards the fragile girl. "Come on."

"I think I'll just stay in here." She replied, lowering herself back all too quickly. Draco started to get back into the water and Hermione stopped him with a heated glare. "Alone."


End file.
